


Trouble and Torment

by amerasu1013 (amerasu_1013)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Crack and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3933265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerasu_1013/pseuds/amerasu1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Point is,” Clint says and looks at Bucky, “people fall in love whoever they fall in love with. Men, women, potted plants. Nobody cares.”<br/>“Huh.” Bucky says softly and looks quietly contemplating. Steve is not quite sure why this makes him nervous. Then Bucky’s eyes focus on something across the room, gaze intense and laser-sharp. Steve follows his line of vision – Bucky is looking at the bartender. Steve is suddenly a lot more nervous.<br/>“Huh.” Bucky says again and his mouth curls into a slow, lazy grin. The bartender is looking right back at him and… and he’s winking. Steve kind of wants to punch the dude.</p><p>Or: How Bucky gets to sleep with hot bartenders and Steve is most decidedly not jealous. Or maybe he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Warning: this will be mostly crack with some angst thrown in to add flavor... or rather, because I can't seem to stick to one genre/can't help myself. Angst is delicious. I should know, we Germans invented the word... ;) (okay, it was probably the Romans, but whatever)  
> 2\. as usual: English is not my native tongue and this is unbetaed. Shout out if you find something, please?  
> And 3.: I don't own anyone in here, except the hot bartender OC. He doesn't appear that much, but he's miiiine.
> 
> PS: The title was inspired by this quote: “The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves.” – William Penn  
> Actually I just put "quotes jealousy" into google, this came up and I liked it.

There is a T-Rex rampaging around Manhattan.

The person responsible has already been apprehended, a kick to the head from Nat took care of him where he was standing, cackling maniacally and sprouting all sorts of nonsense about him being lord over time and space or whatever. So, the guy’s in custody slash unconscious and cuffed to a lamp post, awaiting pick-up by the authorities. His weird portal-opening device has been destroyed, as has the portal to, apparently, the Cretaceous. That leaves only the dinosaur (what is Steve’s life) currently trampling cars in New York City.

Sam suggests Steve talk to it, saying that since they are almost the same age, maybe he can get it to surrender peacefully. Steve is amused – not. They evacuate the general area, shooing along long-suffering New Yorkians, who are less scared at the possibility of being eaten by a supposedly extinct creature and more annoyed at their day being once more interrupted by super-heroes. Once all civilians are safe, they set about dealing with the intruder. Which does not want to be dealt with.

Small caliber gun fire is apparently no more annoying than flies for the beast and Steve’s shield banging from its head with a sound like a giant bell being tolled only seems to confuse it. It would appear that it’s time for what Steve does best – come up with a reckless, suicidal, insanely dangerous plan. He’s got a real talent for those. And he better come up with one real quick, because the T-Rex has decided to go for a stroll in Central Park.

Steve jogs along behind it, evades a sign reminding him to not step on the grass, following the T-Rex which ignores the sign and steps wherever it damn well pleases. Giant T-Rex footprints litter the formerly well-kept grass beside the path. “Falcon, Widow, I have a plan!”

He ignores Nat’s sigh and Sam’s quiet little “Oh no” and continues: “Widow, set up a perimeter at the east entrance. Yes, I know you’re just one person, do it anyway. And Falcon, get over to the Museum of Natural History and get me the following things…”

Sam interrupts him. Rude. “Hold that order, Cap, we got a civilian presence.”

Darn it. Okay, new plan. Steve will heroically rescue the poor trapped civilian and the others can just continue to do what he tells them to and… Hang on. Isn’t that…?

Steve recognizes him just as Sam calls out: “Never mind, not a civilian, not that that’s any better. People, I’ve got eyes on the Winter Soldier.”

Nat mutters something in Russian that Steve is pretty sure isn’t ‘look how pretty the flowers are’ and he sighs heavily. Okay. _New_ new plan: before dealing with the T-Rex, Steve will heroically, erm. Rescue Bucky? Deal with Bucky? Hopefully not have to try and keep Bucky from killing him, _again_? What the heck is Bucky doing anyway?

The Winter Soldier is steadily climbing the obelisk, paying no mind at all to the prehistoric predator stomping around in the vicinity, roaring and showing its enormous teeth and enormous claws and enormous everything and Jeez, what _is_ Bucky doing? Steve runs faster.

What Bucky is doing is this: When he reaches the top of the obelisk, he stands up straight, balancing on the tip – Steve thinks that looks very impressive and vows to find something similar to balance on during their next mission. Maybe there’ll be a super-villain in Egypt someday soon?

Then Bucky throws a grenade at the T-Rex.

Which does not seem nearly as impressive, in Steve’s opinion, more like insanely stupid (and that’s kind of Steve’s thing), because the dinosaur turns around, roars and charges at the obelisk. Yeah, stupid seems way more fitting, Steve thinks. Then he thinks ‘that utter moron’, closely followed by ‘oh my God, BUCKY NO’ and then he starts running really fast. He gets there just in time to see the T-Rex closing in, opening his giant jaws to devour the tiny annoying human whole. Bucky seems unfazed, jumps right off the obelisk, plummeting through the air at the T-Rex. Mid-jump he throws back his left arm and –

Punches the T-Rex. Right in the head.

The way the dinosaur topples over and hits the ground, obliterating several rhododendron bushes and cracking a really nice little fountain in the process, seems kind of anticlimactic compared to that.

Steve skids to a halt, gaping at the scene. The Winter Soldier drops to the ground gracefully and then kicks the T-Rex lightly in the side. It doesn’t move. Steve is kind of in awe.

Then Bucky stares at him. Steve stares back. Sam lands next to Steve, joining in the staring and then they just… stare some more.

“Dude,” Sam says finally, “did you just punch out a T-Rex?”

Bucky shrugs. “Didn’t like the way it was looking at me.”

Sam lets out a slightly surprised bark of laughter and Steve starts grinning. “Hey Bucky! Hey!”

Bucky looks at him carefully. “Hey.”

Natasha ambles closer – what happened to setting a perimeter anyway? – and nods at the Winter Soldier. Steve notices she’s keeping both hands on her guns, which is… yeah, probably smart. Bucky keeps _his_ hands well away from _his_ guns. He seems like he wants to appear non-threatening, which isn’t easy considering he’s wearing about a gazillion weapons, and that’s just the ones Steve can see.

Still, it’s encouraging. “Hey, Bucky,” he says again, “Hey!” He really should stop saying that word, Jeez! “Hey, so, you remember me now?”

Bucky cocks his head. “Sort of.” He says and that’s the most beautiful thing Steve has ever heard.

Then the cavalry arrives and things suddenly get a lot more hectic. Flashing lights everywhere, some people start randomly taping off various parts of the park, other people start debriefing him, Nat and Sam. Yet a different group of people scratch their heads and stare at the fallen T-Rex, wondering how the hell they can get rid of it. Oh, and quite a few brave souls are pointing their guns at the Winter Soldier. Steve takes that personally and moves in front of him.

Bucky seems mildly offended by Steve stepping between him and the people with guns. Probably thinks it implicates that Bucky, well, needs protecting, but he can just shove it, because Steve is staying right here, between his best friend and the guns, thank you _very_ much.

Said best friend hands over his weapons with good grace and appears more interested in the various cranes and forklifts that start appearing next to the fallen dinosaur. Steve thinks he probably does have a lot more weapons hidden somewhere. Where though, is the question. That outfit seems kind of tight. Steve looks it over carefully – it’s really, _really_ tight. Bucky catches him looking and smirks a little. Steve jumps, feeling vaguely guilty and clears his throat.

“Now what?” Sam asks, interrupting what Steve was about to say – not that he’s entirely sure what that was anyway. And now everybody’s staring at Steve expectantly, Bucky and Sam and Nat, because he’s the man with a plan, isn’t he?

“Uh…” he says eloquently. Everybody is still staring and Bucky is still smirking. “Uh, so hey, you wanna come with me? I mean us?”

Bucky thinks it over for a second and then shrugs. “Okay.”

Steve has to try really hard to stop himself from dancing with joy and also to make his voice not sound like that of an excited 13-year old girl when he says: “Great! Awesome! Let’s go!”

He’s not entirely successful, judging by Nat’s pitying look and Sam’s barely-hidden grin, but: Bucky sort of smiles and follows him, easily falling into step beside him. And that’s really the only thing that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still a WIP, but the next bits are already written and will be up as soon as I've self-betaed. .  
> Oh, and: I have no idea how many chapters there will be, just that they're probably all going to be of similar length (or rather, shortness). And I don't really know yet how the story will be developing after the fifth chapter, I haven't quite mapped it out yet. I tend to do that, just start writing and wait for whatever develops. So, uh, we'll find out together?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit got... slightly more angsty than expected...

Wednesday’s villain of the day releases about a hundred mechanical flying monkeys in the city. And he calls himself Oz. Steve grits his teeth, assures Tony several times that yes, he does understand the reference and no, it’s still not funny. Then he sets about directing his troops.

Clint looks up at the building he’s supposed to climb on, looks at Bucky and then looks at Steve. “If we got Barnes for a sniper now, can I take the day off? I forgot to tivo the game.”

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “We need you both up there.”

The archer sighs and grabs his bow. “Thought I’d ask. Okay then, c’mon, Barnes. Let’s go shoot some stuff and look awesome while doing it.”

Bucky lifts a mildly questioning eyebrow. Steve nods at him encouragingly: “Go on, Bucky!”

Then immediately feels stupid, because heck, could he sound more like a Mom trying to get her kid to make new friends? You can do it, sweetie! Just go say hi! They’re really nice! Bucky’s eye-roll is probably entirely justified, but the other just picks up his guns and follows Clint to the elevator. Steve feels ridiculously proud and not the least bit like a Mom, thank you.

Later, when the flying robot-monkeys have been dealt with, he’s standing in the middle of what was once a nice, quiet street and now looks more like a hardware store and a demolition store had a wild party on it and then threw up all over the place, watching Clint and Bucky come closer and feels even more proud. Because look at Bucky! He’s walking next to Clint, completely at ease, even has a tiny curl at the corner of his mouth. The one that on any other person would be a giant grin that says ‘Look at me! I’m happy! I had so much fun!’ and Steve knew he could do it! He _did_ make a friend!

…Huh. Steve narrows his eyes. Bucky says something that’s too quiet to hear, even with Steve’s enhanced senses, so he doesn’t know what it is that makes Clint throw his head back and laugh loudly. He does, however, not like it. And he can hear what Clint says in return: “Thanks! And you too, that was some _great_ shooting, man! The way you hit those last three, awesome!”

Steve’s eyes narrow even farther, because at that, the tiny curl at the corner of Bucky’s mouth gets bigger, now he’s… he’s smiling now. At Clint. Bucky is smiling at Clint.

A tiny animal in Steve’s stomach starts stomping around on his intestines. Bucky can’t just go around smiling at people! He should be smiling at Steve and no one else! And yes, Steve is well aware how idiotic that sounds, but he only just got Bucky back, it’s perfectly normal to feel a bit possessive of his best friend and his stupid awesome smiles that shouldn’t be directed at people said friend hasn’t even known for more than two weeks, right? Right.

“Thank you.” Bucky says and smiles. Steve starts glaring. All that smiling should stop, right the fuck now. Please.

Clint smiles (oh my God stop it!) back at Bucky: “Wanna get a drink? Swap some stories?”

Bucky looks hesitant. This, for some reason, makes Steve glad. The tiny animal is comforted, purrs and settles down for sleep.

But Clint continues: “I could tell you about the one time I almost brought down a helicarrier with a single arrow.”

Bucky looks kind of intrigued. Steve has to work really hard to remember that yes, he _does_ like Clint and no, does _not_ in fact wish he was never born. The tiny animal wakes up, develops claws and rampages in Steve’s stomach until he thinks he might be ill.

Clint smiles, more gently now. “Well, I was brainwashed at the time, so maybe it doesn’t really count. Couldn’t fight it, could only do what that fucker told me to. Tried to kill all my friends as well, while I was at it. Succeeded with some, too. Guess you can probably relate, hm?”

Oh no. Oh no, no, no – because Bucky stops smiling, which is great, but he’s looking thoughtful and handsome (what) and is nodding and says: “Yeah” and then he and Clint turn around and leave for that drink and they’re gonna bond and this is horrible. Okay, it’s not, because it’s good for Bucky to talk about – _it_ and Clint seems like a very good person for him to talk to because heck, similar experiences and all. And Steve tried to get him to talk but he wouldn’t and it’s good that he maybe can with Clint, real good, but also it’s bad, it’s horrible… because…

_Because it’s Clint and not Steve._

Because Steve is Bucky’s best friend and they’ve known each other their whole lives. Because Bucky is everything Steve has and he thought he lost him, and now that he’s back… it should be Steve. It should be, and isn’t, and that makes the tiny animal in his stomach howl and claw at his insides and it _hurts_.

Bucky and Clint walk away together, leaving Steve behind. He watches how their shoulders knock together and how Bucky doesn’t flinch when it happens, thinks about how Bucky _did_ flinch when Steve’s arm touched his only yesterday and grinds his teeth so hart his jaw almost seizes up.

It should be Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we're back to the less angsty stuff... Crack ahead! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back to the funny stuff...

“Man, why do we always have to come here?” Sam moans, but sits down anyway, “this is a gay bar. I’m not gay.”

“I like it here. It’s quiet. And it’s closest to the office.” Nat settles into the booth and orders a drink with a name Steve can’t even listen to without blushing. He’ll stick to beer, thank you.

“I don’t know if I wanna call it an office, and also…”

“I like it here, too.” Clint says, lifting a glass of beer that miraculously appeared in front of him without him having ordered it. He smirks at the waiter and takes a sip while unnecessarily flexing his forearms. The waiter damn near swoons, Nat shakes her head with a snort but Clint is unrepentant, wiping the foam from his mouth. “And Thor likes it,” he continues, a new beer materializing at his elbow almost before the current one is finished, “look at him!”

Thor indeed seems to enjoy himself doing… something. “That’s called a body shot.” Nat helpfully explains to Steve, who’s torn between horror and intrigue. That does not seem to be very hygienic, but… Thor apparently likes it? And wow, is really fit. One could almost get self-conscious, super-soldier body and all.

Sam is still whining – erm, manfully complaining. “Zip it, Wilson,” Natasha says and sips serenely on her very pink and very girly drink. “just go with it. Relax. Have a drink. Or just shut up and let _me_ have a drink in peace. This is one of the very few bars I can go to where everybody is not immediately trying to see the shape of my nipples through my shirt.”

Immediately three pairs of eyes settle on her shirt, Sam’s intrigued and calculating, Steve’s guiltily interested (as he said: he’s 95, not dead) and Clint’s… fondly remembering?!

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Fellas.” She says, all of a sudden looking more than vaguely threatening with her girly pink drink and her pig-tails, so they find something else to look at very quickly. Like the ceiling. It’s a very nice ceiling, Steve thinks. A nice, safe ceiling.

“There are two men having sex in the bathroom.” Bucky has appeared in the corner of their booth – how did he do that, there’s the wall on one side, the bench on the second and the table and Steve on the other sides? There’s no way he could have gotten there without anyone noticing, but Steve has long given up trying to explain Bucky.

“Bucky!” Steve says, very glad he’s here, because Nat’s shirt is kind of tight and her bra is kind of thin and he has to stop that thought right there before she reads his mind and dismembers him with her cocktail stick. “When did you get here?”

“Just now.” Bucky says and folds his leather-gloved hands on the table. “Why are there men having sex in the bathroom?”

“Uh…” Steve says intelligently. He was made to sit through several courses on 21th century living and one of the courses explained some relationship stuff to him in varying and sometimes slightly horrifying detail, but none of the courses prepared him for having to explain the 21th century’s, erm, take on same-sex relationships to someone else. “Uh…”

“It’s not illegal here anymore,” Sam says and God bless Sam, who has apparently decided to follow Nat’s advice and is sipping on his beer, looking content and relaxed, very unlike Steve feels right now. “Men can be with other men, women with other women, in most places they can even get married now. Or men can be with men and then with women, or both at the same time or whatever floats your boat. I have a book I can give you.”

Steve feels he has to add something, if only to make Bucky stop looking at Sam so interestedly: “Yeah, it’s completely natural nowadays to be unnatural. I mean, erm, what is considered unnatural? No, no, I mean, used to be considered? Heck, I mean no, it’s just…”

“Oh God, Steve,” Clint moans while the others shake their heads in silent despair, “just shut up!”

“… normal.” Steve finishes, very quietly. His face feels like it’s on fire.

“Point is,” Clint says and looks at Bucky, “people fall in love whoever they fall in love with. Men, women, potted plants. Or they don’t fall in love at all, or do but don’t want sex, whatever. Nobody cares. Well, some people do, but those people are assholes anyway and who wants another drink?”

He orders for them all and Steve frowns, suddenly realizing that his own drink order from earlier never showed up in the first place. Weird.

“Huh.” Bucky says softly and looks quietly contemplating. Steve is not quite sure why this makes him nervous. Then Bucky’s eyes focus on something across the room, gaze intense and laser-sharp. Steve follows his line of vision – Bucky is looking at the bartender. Steve is suddenly a lot more nervous.

“Huh.” Bucky says again and his mouth curls into a slow, lazy grin. The bartender is looking right back at him and… and he’s _winking_. Steve kind of wants to punch the dude.

Their drinks appear, carried by Clint’s waiter-friend, who puts shot glasses of something milky white in front of them. Clint toasts the waiter who swoons again, eyes glued to the archer’s arms. Nat smiles and takes her own, Sam proclaims he loves that stuff and throws his back without a second’s hesitation, Bucky looks at his glass and then drinks it with a shrug. Steve realizes he never asked his friend if alcohol stopped working for him like it did for Steve himself and also notices that he didn’t get a glass this time, either. This is the second time his drink has been forgotten, that’s weird, right?

He opens his mouth to ask for his beer from earlier or the shot from just now or, well, any drink, really, because alcohol seems like a really good idea now, even if it’s not getting him drunk. Placebo-effect, right? The waiter interrupts him and sets down a glass of something in front of Bucky. “Sex on the beach. On the house!” he informs them with a wink and nods in the direction of the bartender. Who grins and winks at Bucky and who made him a drink with _that name_ and Steve would really like to punch that guy now.

Bucky lifts an eyebrow, smirks and picks up the drink. Takes a sip, smirks some more and licks his lips in an unnecessary and kind of threatening way. Threatening to Steve’s sanity, that is, because everybody else is staring at Bucky like he’s the most delicious thing imaginable and Steve kind of wants to wrap him in blankets and hide him somewhere because just no. His best friend is not an object to be ogled and stared at, he needs to be kept safe and hidden and innocent (yeah right) and away from other people who stare and lick their lips when Bucky does and Bucky doesn’t even look at Steve, doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s there and this is just wrong and if he doesn’t stop licking his lips soon, Steve will… will…

Will do nothing, apparently, while Bucky nonchalantly announces he’ll be right back and gets out from the corner of the booth without making anyone get up to actually _let_ him out and how does he do that anyway? Bucky prowls over to the bar, somehow staying hidden in the shadows despite walking across a brightly lit, empty space where _there are no fucking shadows_. Leans on the bar, close to the smirking bartender, long lean body perfectly on display and Steve has to close his eyes for a second because that view makes him _feel things_ he can’t explain.

When he opens his eyes again, Bucky is gone. So is the bartender.

Steve feels like maybe crying into his drink now, expect he still doesn’t have one. Because the waiter has again forgotten to bring him his order and that is just another reason to hate his life.

Bucky returns about 45 minutes later, looking loose-limbed and relaxed. “Had a good time?” Steve asks pointedly, feeling petty. And still thirsty.

Bucky hums in agreement, leans back in his seat with a lazy grin and winks at the bartender, who sent over another round of drinks, on the house. The bartender is grinning, too, seems to be walking kind of stiffly and looks very… satisfied. Steve _really_ doesn’t like the guy.

Especially since, yet again, Steve’s drink has been forgotten.

He steals Bucky’s drink, who’s too fucking mellow to mind and goes to play pool with Thor. At least that way he doesn’t have to look at the others and can ignore the dirty grins (Clint and Bucky), the calculating looks (Natasha and Sam) and the handsome, satisfied, fucking glowing faces (Bucky and the bartender, damn him). Thor just talks to him about farmers’ markets and absolutely destroys him at pool. Somehow that seems an apt metaphor for Steve’s life right now.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s not that Steve is jealous or anything. And it’s not that Steve cares that Bucky is sleeping with men now. He explains this to Sam and Natasha, who don’t look like they believe him.

“I’m serious, it’s not that I’m jealous! Bucky is perfectly allowed to sleep with whoever he likes, even if that’s a man, he deserves some happiness, don’t you think?”

At that, Steve has to blink several times, because oh my God, Bucky deserves all the happiness in the world. With what he’s been through, and… and in general, because he’s Bucky and Steve really only wants him to be happy. Even if he’s happy fucking stupid bartenders, and Steve can’t believe they are here in this bar again, that he just had to watch how the bartender grinned widely and winked at Bucky as soon as he saw him and, of course, Bucky winked back.

Steve scowls at Bucky’s back, who’s taking his sweet time getting to their table, where he and the others are already sitting. Nonchalantly examining the pictures on the wall, looking out the window… the bartender’s watching his every move. As is Steve, because... He’s… _strutting_ , Bucky is, there is no other word for it. Steve rips his eyes away and looks back at Sam and Nat.

“It’s not that. Anyway, it’s just weird. Uh. Surprising? I wouldn’t have thought that he went for…” Steve trails off. Totally ignores how Sam and Nat exchange a knowing look and glares across the bar. The bartender has turned around to get a bottle from a high shelf, his shirt is riding up in the back and there are two very distinct handprint-shaped bruises on his hips. Steve grits his teeth. Then remembers that he was about to say something. “Went for, well, that!” he finishes, looking back at Nat and Sam. Who are sighing and shaking their heads and rolling their eyes, everything in perfect sync. Creepy.

“Why’s that surprising?” Bucky asks, sitting down next to him. “I went with guys back then, too, you know that.”

Steve did not know that. Or did he? Huh. In retrospect, this explains some of the nights where the girls Bucky had over had surprisingly baritone-like voices. And that guy, Lester? Leighton? Leslie? Who was hanging around a lot that one summer. Okay then, maybe he did know but he _didn’t_ know and that’s not the point. He should tell Bucky that.

“That’s not the point!” he says, “It’s just… do you even know the guy’s name? Does he know yours?”

Bucky frowns a little. Hah! Steve thinks. “You know what,” Bucky says slowly, “I don’t know his name, actually.”

“See?” Steve says imploringly, “It’s weird! It’s… where are you going?”

Because his best friend stands up again and takes a step towards the bar. “To fix that, obviously,” he says with an eye roll. “Gonna ask his name.” He smirks and Steve feels the sudden desire to bang his head against the table. “And tell him mine, so he can scream it later.”

And then he’s gone and Steve gives into his desire. Thud. Thud. Ouch. His head hurts.

“You know what?” Sam says, “I take everything back – I love this bar. The entertainment is _great_ here.”

Thud. _Damn it_.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve tries again when he’s at the range with Clint and Bucky, who are fiercely competing to see who can take out more targets and swapping stories about killing people with various household items. It’s not like Steve needs to be here, he just randomly walked by to try and talk some sense into Bucky. And maybe keep an eye on him and Clint, because their bonding via tales of people getting killed with toasters is… annoying. He’s _not_ jealous, okay? He’s just worried about Bucky, his best friend is still behaving weirdly. And has escalated to bringing that bartender over _here_ , which is just… just no.

“Bucky, I just… you don’t need to sleep with strangers, okay? You can find some other way to, to feel better. Join a book club?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and blows the head off a dummy. “First of all, Mike’s not a stranger. I’m very familiar with Mike.” A smirk and Steve hates his life and Mike, the stupid bartender. “ _Intimately_ familiar. And second: a book club? Seriously?”

Hey. Steve joined a book club and it’s nice! And also: “I know you’re familiar with him! I’ve seen it! Just last night I saw it and seriously, you couldn’t put a sock on the doorknob or something, could you?!”

Bucky reloads and cocks his head. “I don’t remember ever putting socks on doorknobs.”

Steve throws his hands into the air. “That’s because you never did! I was constantly walking in on you with random conquests! I’m still scarred for life from seeing you with those twins!”

“Oh, yeah, I remember them!” Bucky smiles, slow and lazy. “I got them for both of us, but you ran away. Can’t say I minded, though, getting to keep them both.”

Clint – oh right, he’s still here, watching the proceedings with great interest while still shooting at his targets without looking at them and, of course, the show-off, hitting the bull’s eye every single time – chooses that moment to voice his thoughts: “You know, Barnes, I like the snark. Who knew all it took was getting you laid to get your wild side out.”

Bucky grins back: “You ain’t even _seen_ my wild side yet, Barton.”

Clint laughs. “I guess you’re saving that for Mike, hm?”

Bucky’s grin turns filthy. “You could say that.”

Oh sweet baby Jesus, this is horrible. Steve decides to rapidly switch tactics, before Bucky starts telling them, shudder, about his wild side. Dear Lord no. He sighs, loudly, and looks up at Bucky through his eye lashes. Makes sure to bite his lip and use the full wattage of his puppy-dog eyes. “Bucky,” he says, sighing again, “I just worry about you. I just want you to be _safe_.”

Bucky frowns. “I _am_ safe. I’ve got condoms. They taste funny, though.”

Argh. No. That was not the point. Oh God _no_.

Clint pipes up again: “There’s flavored ones you can buy. Taste like pineapple and banana and all sorts of stuff. Still taste weird, but not as bad.”

Oh my God what is happening.

“Really?” Bucky perks up and puts down his guns. “You know a place?”

Clint nods and makes his bow collapse. “C’mon, I’ll take you to a great shop. I was gonna buy a new dildo anyway, I kind of broke the last one.”

Bucky looks intrigued and he and Clint leave, the latter explaining about edible panties and butt plugs and all sorts of things Steve never wanted to hear about, especially in context with his best friend.

Drowning himself in his shower seems like a really good idea now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, work outside in the field has started again after several weeks of working at home at my laptop. Which meant I was pretty busy all day and in the evenings mostly too tired to do anything but eat and sleep... I'll be back at working at home in a few days, though, so there'll be more time for writing soon...

Okay, Steve has to admit: he _is_ jealous. It’s just… well, see: Bucky was _his_ friend first, his _best_ friend, the one he only just got back. And sometimes it feels like Steve never sees him. Yeah, sure, they go on missions together, they spar together, they watch movies and go for a walk, all that stuff. But… well.

A mission is not really the perfect time to celebrate their friendship, since it’s, you know, a mission and they’re usually pretty busy not dying and fighting back and all that. Then again, maybe it is, because if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed since the 1940s, even with the decades they spent apart, it’s this: Steve and Bucky make a _great_ team. They work well together, they fight well together, it’s… perfect, really. Doesn’t matter if Steve’s on the ground and Bucky up high somewhere with his rifle or if they’re next to each other in close combat with their enemies, Steve knows Bucky has his six and the other way round.

Sure, it took some getting used to, fighting next to Bucky, Steve sort of forgot that Bucky, well, the Winter Soldier, is an expert at close combat. He wasn’t always, is the thing, wasn’t back then, so at first Steve kind of tried to make him stay up on a roof somewhere, away from the danger of getting hurt. Bucky figured it out of course, which wasn’t pretty. There was some yelling and some insults, certain people got reminded how they almost managed to kill certain other people and only didn’t succeed because of the whole ‘right, he’s my best friend’-thing. Then Sam tried to negotiate and make them stop fighting, so of course Steve and Bucky immediately joined forces to tell him to stay out of it. Then they called each other some more names, glared a lot and then there was pizza.

And now Bucky’s fighting right next to Steve, which feels… _right_. Plus, the way Bucky can simply punch through things like walls and robots and tanks never gets old. Or how he sometimes just throws Steve at their enemies, that’s _great_. Anyway, the fight well together and a couple of weeks ago Bucky even yelled at the others when there was a lot of moaning and groaning about one of Steve’s plans, telling them the only one who’s allowed to yell at Steve for his ‘hare-brained, insane, fucking stupid ideas of a suicide attempt masquerading as a plan’ (which… hey!) is Bucky and the others could just shut the hell up, because if they hadn’t noticed yet: Steve’s plans tend to fucking work? Which was kind of insulting but also weirdly flattering. So, going on missions together is great. But, as mentioned earlier, it’s not exactly the perfect time to celebrate their friendship.

As for the rest of the time: they are pretty much never alone. That’s the downside of them sharing an apartment at the tower: There’s almost always one of the others around, which… Steve likes them, a lot, every one of them, but. Now and then he’d just really like some time alone with his best friend, okay? But he can’t get that, because they put on a movie and Sam wanders in to watch it with them. They go to the gym and seconds later Thor and Clint appear to place bets on who will win their sparring match. They cook dinner (Steve doing the actual cooking and Bucky cutting up vegetables with frightening accuracy and speed) and Tony is drawn by the smell like a motor oil-covered moth by the flame… and so on.

Going out, to the movies or exhibitions or just for a walk to explore the city doesn’t work, either. Because Bucky’s too busy watching every single person on the street in case Hydra is still trying to get him back, so he can’t relax. And Steve can’t relax either, because what if Bucky’s right? What if there’s someone out there who wants to take Bucky away from him…

So, going out isn’t really an option. Plus there was that thing in the cinema, where the projectionist turned out to be a mass-murdering psychopath, so yeah. Steve is getting a little sick of it. He just wants to spend some time with his best friend, damn it. Alone. Just the two of them. Is that too much to ask?

And don’t even ask about the times where they go out for a drink, because that involves a certain bar and a certain bartender who shall not be named (it’s a stupid name anyway). Steve is not happy that they go there so, so many evenings, he really isn’t. But the music is okay and watching Clint destroy people at darts and Thor obliterate his opponents at pool is kind of fun. Nat’s girly pink drinks actually taste quite nice and ever since Steve followed Clint’s advice and started flexing his arms a lot, he actually gets his drink when he orders and sometimes even on the house. Still, the bar has Mi – that bartender. Urgh. Going to that bar inescapably involves Bucky making off with said bartender and coming back hours later with a stupid smug grin on his stupid smug face and Steve really doesn’t wants to talk about that anymore, okay? Okay. Great.

Natasha tells him to suck it up and that it could be worse. Sam tells him to focus on the good things. And then they look at him with pity and exasperation and ask why he doesn’t just _tell_ him and Steve has no idea what they are talking about. Honestly. But maybe they’re right. Okay, focus on the good things:

Hmm. Fuck, there is seriously nothing good to focus on. Because either they are on a mission or the others are around or they are at the bar or… or Mike is actually _with_ them, at the _tower_ , because Bucky likes him and then he’s in their apartment and Steve has to make awkward conversation, which is horrible. But still better than when Bucky and Mike vanish to Bucky’s bedroom and Steve has enhanced hearing, okay? He _knows_ what’s going on in there. Or in the kitchen – that’s where he _eats_ , damn it! And… there’s nothing good about this, nothing. Except… oh.

Bucky is happy.

Bucky is happy. He likes Mike and what they do together. He’s smiling and laughing and poking fun at Tony and cooking dinner with Bruce and doing yoga with Nat and has a lot fewer nightmares… and he’s happy. Even when he’s not with Steve, he’s happy.

And yeah, that’s a pretty good thing to focus on.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this again got way more angsty than originally planned... We're almost at the end, though! Just this and then one more chapter to go...

Steve starts keeping his distance. The reason for that is obvious, as he points out to Natasha: Steve won’t stand in the way of Bucky’s happiness. And if that happiness comes from spending time with Mike and not with Steve, so be it. Natasha stares at him when he tells her with his face open and earnest, because this is the right thing to do, isn’t it? Then she throws her arms in the air and walks away, muttering something under her breath that’s probably very unflattering. Steve really doesn’t get why she’s so exasperated. And when Clint comes into the room a minute later, stares at him, rolls his eyes so hard they nearly pop from his head and then leaves without a word , Steve’s doubly annoyed. He’s _doing the right thing_ , damn it.

Even if it hurts.

Steve dials down on his visits going to the bar, and when he’s there, he spends his time there playing pool or darts or just talking to his friends, determinedly ignoring the looks Bucky and Mike throw at each other. Most of the time though he begs off with an excuse and stays at home. He works out more, which is utterly practical considering there’s still an attack by some mad scientist/evil wannabe-overlord/overzealous gangster/shady organization every other week. He starts drawing more often, figures out how to operate that Netflix thing (he doesn’t like Homeland, but Game of Thrones is addictive) and… well, spends his time trying to take his mind off certain things.

Like the fact that, right now, he can hear Bucky’s voice rumble through the wall from his bedroom and Mike’s laughter right afterwards.

He keeps his distance, determined to let Bucky have his peace and happiness and not be in the way. It’s the right thing to do, but still, it fucking hurts. Especially since Bucky doesn’t even seem to notice. And that, that feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest.

 

***

 

It turns out Bucky _does_ notice. After a few weeks, he corners Steve in the kitchen, where he’s waiting for the coffee maker to finish, brain still feeling slow and sluggish so early in the morning. Bucky’s clad only in boxer shorts and Steve hastily focuses on his face.

“You’re being weird. What’s going on with you?” Bucky asks and glares at him.

“What? Nothing! I’m not being weird! I’m fine!” Steve is very aware how his voice sounds right now, higher than usual, fake. Guilty.

“Right.” Bucky is still glaring. “I can tell you’re lying, you know. Something’s up. Tell me.”

Steve really, really doesn’t want to. “Nothing, I swear. I’m fine, Bucky, really.”

Bucky looks at him for a long time, eyes searching Steve’s face. He tries really hard not to fidget, but that look seems to go right through him, down to his core. But in the end, Bucky sighs and seems to slump, nodding to himself. “Right. I thought we… Nevermind. Okay. Fine then.” He sounds disbelieving and disappointed. Sad.

Then he turns around and leaves, gaze on the floor. Steve breathes very quietly, stomach rolling. That… did not go well. The coffee maker beeps to indicate it’s finished, but he doesn’t hear it.


	8. Chapter 8

The others notice as well. Natasha has taken to glaring at him every time she sees him, jerking her head into Bucky’s direction or nodding at him demandingly. Then inevitably she grinds her teeth and insults him in various languages when Steve just looks at her and, well, doesn’t follow her unsubtle order and go over to where Bucky is.

Thor talks at him about shield brothers, at length, sometimes with little poetry pieces, about how one must never desert a brother in arms, how their bond is the strongest etcetera. When Steve just stares at him, Thor shakes his head and sighs something about how it is obvious that _some_ Midgardians are indeed very ignorant. Sam shares stories about his Uncle Dean and his long-time partner Connor. Clint starts talking about all the times he had sex with men, very loudly and explicitly, and why does everybody keep bringing up gay people anyway?

Tony sends him an email, entitled “NO MORE SAD PEOPLE”, all in caps, with a text containing things like “SHARE THE LOVE” and “YOU’RE NEVER TOO OLD TO DO IT; ALSO THERE’S VIAGRA” and something about a closet. Steve neither really understands the email nor does he think it’s funny when Tony calls him “CAPTAIN LOVELESS”.

Steve is starting to get really annoyed when people start accosting him in the hallways, demanding he ‘end this’ and ‘fix this’ and ‘why can’t you two morons just be happy’ and ‘he misses you, can’t you fucking see you brainless fossil’. Annoyed and insulted. So much so that he escapes to the only place he knows nobody will pester him: that empty apartment on the 67th floor Tony hasn’t gotten around to figuring out what he wants to do with. It’s unused and empty, and it smells weird. Nobody ever goes there, it will be calm and quiet and he’ll be all alone, thank God. Only, when he enters, he notices three things:

Firstly, he’s not the only one to think this place is perfect for having some peace and quiet, because Bruce apparently comes here to meditate. Secondly, the weird smell seems to stem from Bruce’s candles and incense – when it’s fresh, it doesn’t actually smell all that bad.

And thirdly: Bruce is the only one who hasn’t pestered Steve about stopping his avoidance of Bucky.

He doesn’t now, either, just invites Steve to join him and offers to teach him some relaxing techniques. Which, to be honest, Steve kind of feels would be useful a lot at this current time. And it’s… nice. It’s quiet, it’s nice, Bruce doesn’t annoy him, there’s no sound except their calm, slow breathing, the candles do smell pretty nice, it’s peaceful. For the first time in weeks, Steve feels… not happy, but, well, relaxed.

Steve doesn’t know how much time has passed when he opens his eyes again, but it doesn’t really matter. He helps Bruce put out the candles and roll up the yoga mats they were sitting on, mind still pleasantly calm. On their way back upstairs to the others they chat a little (turns out Bruce shares his Game of Thrones-addiction) and, yeah, it’s really nice. Their conversation turns to period films and these weird movies they made about Steve’s life (Tony offered to get him a consultant job for the new ones, but Steve refused with a shudder, no thank you) and then…

Bruce says, out of nowhere: “You know, I always used to think Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were a couple. I don’t know, the way the relationship was described in all historical texts, the love that’s obviously there, it just seemed like that.”

Which… uh. Steve’s denial is instant and pretty forceful, because just no. Where do people get that idea? They are just friends! Granted, they are close, closer than brothers, Bucky is the most important person in Steve’s entire universe. When he fell, it felt like a part of Steve’s heart was ripped out, as if a piece of himself fell into that abyss with Bucky. When he saw him again on that bridge, it was as if his heart was suddenly complete again, only to shatter into a million pieces when Bucky didn’t recognize him. When it seemed like Steve would have to kill Bucky to save the world, it felt like he was walking towards his own death, if he _had_ killed him, surely Steve would have died right there the same second. And when Bucky finally, finally came back to him, Steve felt… complete…

… oh. _Oh_.

God damn it.

Steve is only distantly aware that he’s standing right there in the middle of the hallway, mouth open and eyes wide as saucers. Bruce has stopped walking as well, takes one look at him and then wanders off, chuckling to himself. Steve doesn’t see, doesn’t hear, doesn’t care, because it’s as if the whole universe has shifted on its axis and _suddenly it all makes sense_.

Steve starts running.

Bucky’s there, in the living room, standing next to the sofa. They are all there, all his friends, sitting on the couch and the floor, crowded around the tv, DVDs in hands, but Steve doesn’t care. Because Bucky’s there, right in the middle, looks up when he hears Steve enter and how did Steve never see the way Bucky’s eyes light up when he sees him? Now everybody’s staring at him, all his friends, Bucky is staring, because he strides over to Bucky and stops in front of him, opens his mouth and – no sound comes out. Oh dear Lord. He closes it again.

Bucky looks at him carefully. “What’s up, Stevie?” he says softly, a smile in his eyes.

Steve stares at him. How is he supposed to – how can he tell him that – how do you say it when you’ve only now figured it out after so many years – how?

Bucky still looks at him, quiet and expectant. A hush has fallen over the whole room, everybody’s watching now. And Steve… Steve, heart in his chest and fire in his cheeks, opens his mouth again and…

Steve tells him.

The others start cheering, Natasha yells “Fucking finally!”, Clint tells Tony loudly he owes him 2.000 bucks, Thor laughs joyfully, Sam does a little victory dance, Bruce actually claps his hands, but Steve doesn’t notice any of it. Because Bucky is looking at him, looking right into him, down to his core, as he always does, and then… he smiles. “You moron,” he says softly, voice gentle and sweet and Steve’s heart starts to sing.

“Yeah, I am,” he admits and smiles back.

He really is, he thinks, as Bucky takes his hand and leads him from the room, he really is: it took him long enough.

 

THE END

 

 

 

**PS: Bonus scene**

“Man, why do we _still_ always have to come here?” Sam moans when they enter. “It’s getting boring seeing the same damn bar every evening.”

Everybody ignores him and starts on their beverages, which appeared with Clint’s old friend the waiter as soon as they sat down. Steve takes a sip of his own drink (Sex on the Beach, courtesy of Mike the bartender, who winks and grins at him and throws him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘finally’. Mike is still stupid.) and smiles, because Bucky has materialized on the seat next to him, in the corner of their booth where he can’t possibly have gotten without at least poking someone or – whatever. Materializes, as usual ignoring such paltry things as solid walls, benches, people and the laws of physics.

“Hey you.” he murmurs into Steve’s ear.

“Hey yourself.” Steve murmurs back. “What’s up with you?”

Bucky gives him a slow, lazy smile: “This time there are no men having sex in the bathroom.”

Steve hums. “Is that so. How disappointing.”

“That is so. Hey, Stevie...” Bucky leans closer, his smile turning filthy, “Wanna change that?”

Steve’s answer? Hell _yes_.


End file.
